


Spines

by Alliemackenzie28, MedicBaymax



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cabin Fic, Gen, Hurt MacGyver, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13832994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliemackenzie28/pseuds/Alliemackenzie28, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedicBaymax/pseuds/MedicBaymax
Summary: Mac gets stuck with sea urchin spines.





	Spines

**Author's Note:**

> This was an rp between the authors. Find us on tumblr @alliemackenzie28 and @macgyvermedical.

Mac let his head break the surface and blew the ocean water from his snorkel. The wind was getting a little harder now and he was beginning to feel the chill of the increasingly choppy water through his wetsuit. Twenty feet below him, tucked just beneath a craggy boulder and now far out of sight of the surface, was the training artifact he'd just placed. For the last few weeks, following a generous donation of a large tract of wilderness to the Phoenix Foundation from an anonymous donor, Jack and Mac had been outfitting the land for use as a training location. Namely, by Mac's insistence that the land be kept as true to nature as possible, they'd been setting markers in various locations and terrain, hoping to take a group of new agents through in a training simulation in a month or so. It was several hundred acres of dense forest, whitewater, and craggy coastline dotted with what Mac estimated to be several dozen cabins the previous owner had left in disrepair for what was clearly many years. Jack and Mac had been navigating between them, noting which would make good training locations and which should be left for nature. The one they'd spent the previous night in was large and would take some work, but Mac hoped in time it would provide a good base of operations for Phoenix training expeditions. Speaking of which, given the swiftly approaching chill (and, he noted, a likely approaching storm) he couldn't wait to get out of the wetsuit and sit by a fire in said cabin. He waved to Jack, who sat considerably drier on one of the many boulders that made up this stretch of coastline, and began swimming to the edge. A wave broke over his head, sending water into his snorkel at exactly the wrong moment. He pulled his head up, coughing the salty water out of his throat. Distracted, he didn't notice the second, much larger wave until it slammed into him, forcing him below the surface. He struggled for a moment in the current as his mask was pulled off his face by the force of the water. Seconds went by as he struggled upward, only to be forced down again. This time, he felt himself slammed sideways into a rock. His ribs and back suddenly exploded with pain, quickly dulled by the chilly water. Gasping, he finally fought his way to the surface successfully, feeling what felt like deep scratches down his side.

It was beautiful, but there was no internet. Which meant no... videos. Hey, Jack had needs. He was happy not to be in the water at the moment though, because it looked cold. The waves crashing into the large rock he sat on had begun to spray freezing water up into his face. "Mac, let's go! Dinner's waitin'!" he called when Mac's head appeared between waves. He stood as he watched his friend make his way to shore, sure that they'd both be glad to get out of the wind. Suddenly, Mac went under, popped up, and went under again, this time for the longest five seconds of Jack's life. When he came up again, his mask and snorkel were both gone, and blood floated away from him in dark streams. Jack scrambled to the edge of the water and waded in, shoes and all, to meet Mac.

The current had managed to drag him close enough to shore that once he got his feet underneath him, he could easily stand about waist-deep amid the rocks. His hands came up instinctively to explore the site of injury amid the dark neoprene. Surprisingly, the suit itself was intact, blowing the theory that his side had been torn up by the craggy rocks. His hands quickly found the other culprit- what seemed like hundreds of small spines were broken in his skin. Removed from the cold salt water, they burned in a way that felt strangely out of proportion with the actual injuries. He heard splashing that had nothing to do with the waves and looked up to see Jack wading towards him, looking concerned. "I'm good, Jack, stay where you are. Waves're unpredictable." He warned, his teeth slightly gritted against the discomfort. Holding himself in a way as to disturb the spines as little as possible, he began to limp towards Jack.

Jack backed up into ankle deep surf, but grabbed Mac's arm as soon as he was close enough. "You alright?" He couldn't see any damage at all, but there was definitely blood on Mac's hand, and he was walking funny, like he had broken ribs or something. Shit. Jack's brain immediately started working on how to get Mac out of there- and came up short. They'd hiked in eight miles to the cabins, and although they had no internet (sigh) it looked like it might storm soon. That meant that whatever Mac's injuries were, they'd have to get through them on their own until either Mac could walk out or Jack could leave him for long enough to go call for help.

Mac let Jack grab his arm and help him to shore. "There's, uh," Mac cringed. Now completely out of the water, his side and back burned badly enough to be really distracting. Jack's pulling on his arm wasn't helping. It just felt like raw skin was being jostled around, scraping against the inside of his wetsuit. "Careful, Jack, there's spines." He said, indicating the vague area of the most pain. Some of them had broken when he'd touched them. Not rock or plant-based, he thought. So animal, then? They were very thin, almost like needles. They blended in well until his arm or hand brushed them, sending a fresh wave of burning pain across the area.

Jack realized his helping hand was hurting his friend, and let go. "God, sorry!"  
"S'okay." Mac assured him. "Spine's are in my side and back- feels like I dumped alcohol on road rash. Not you." He limped beside Jack, staying close in case he needed assistance. The burning was totally out of proportion to the wounds now, he decided. Which usually meant venom of some kind. He wasn't completely up on the venomous wildlife of the region yet, so he didn't want to take any chances. Fortunately, the cabin wasn't far away.

Mac's shoulder bumped into Jack's as they walked. Jack was grateful that Mac stayed next to him, but it also worried him; the kid was constantly bounding off ahead of him into who knew what kinds of danger. They made it to the cabin without incident. Storm clouds were visible out the open window as Jack pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. "Sit," he ordered.

They'd been able to fix up the important parts of the cabin in the last day or so- the chimney worked, and the old furniture had been kept dry and under tarps enough that even the mattresses weren't too out of commission for their use. By the time they got to the cabin, Jack's order to sit wasn't something he would fight. He was starting to feel a little dizzy, which he forced himself to chalk up to the pain. Gingerly, he lowered himself to the chair and leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the surface of the table. It was less a position of comfort as it was a position where he knew he wouldn't accidentally bump the exposed spines against anything as they continued to burn. How he would get the wetsuit off without breaking the spines he didn't quite have figured out yet.

"What happened out there, Mac?" Jack questioned. His friend moved too carefully, like he was protecting himself. Internal injuries? Broken ribs? Mac was pale, and it wasn't warm out by any means, so Jack grabbed a couple of armfuls of wood from the pile outside and dumped them next to the cast iron stove. He stuffed a few pieces haphazardly inside and shut the door, enjoying the clanking as the metal heated up. He washed his hands in the sink, shut the window, and sat down in front of Mac. "Ok, let's get this thing off you. I'll be as gentle as I can.”

"I think you're gonna have to cut it off." Mac said. "Cut around the area with the spines and then we can pull those pieces off after with a little more control." He winced. "Maybe take some of the spines with them."

“Spines? How'd you get spines in you? What kind of spines?" Jack complained as he pulled out his belt knife. Carefully, he cut down the arm on Mac's good side, then through the neckline on the other side. He took everything off but the areas Mac had indicated, and then went to work, starting with the shoulder. Carefully, he peeled back a small section that he'd separated from the rest, not sure whether to go slowly or quickly.

"I got slammed against a rock, had a lot of sea urchins on it." Mac said. "Lot of pretty spineless sea urchins now by how my side feels." He paused for a second, gritting his teeth as Jack pulled the first piece away. A few of the spines broke, but many of them came out with the neoprene. Mac hazarded a look at his shoulder. It still had broken ends of spines sticking out of it, and a few of the holes oozed blood. The area immediately around them looked white and swollen, with a flushed ring around the patch of spines. Like a bug bite that'd been itched too much. "Keep going." He urged Jack. 

Jack chuckled at the thought of naked, spineless sea urchins even as he winced in sympathy. "Damn, Mac! You did a number on yourself." He did keep going, peeling away the wetsuit piece by piece until it was all off, leaving Mac naked from the waist up, one side covered in weird whitish blobs and pieces of sea urchin spine. "Should I pull the rest out? I bet there's some of those thingies in that first aid kit we brought. Tweezers!" Jack mimed the word with two fingers.

"Yeah, but lets get as much as we can with the wet suit pieces and then go after them with the tweezers." Mac instructed, bracing for Jack to pull the larger patch away from his side. "Go slowly and pull as many as you can, they break easily." The wet suit would pull out more than Jack could at a time, and Mac had a feeling he wanted as many of them as possible out as soon as possible. Jack could go after the broken ones next as long as he was careful. Mac could feel his hands shaking a little and tried to brace them against the table so Jack couldn't see.

Jack saw, and it killed him to peel the fabric away from his friend's side, but he did it anyway. Slowly, the spines and the suit came away in a spiky mess. Jack braced a hand against Mac's shoulder and pulled the last bit away.

Mac let himself tap his foot against the cabin floor as fast as he could, letting it distract him somewhat as Jack pulled the last of the neoprene off of him. The areas where the broken spines where lodged were swollen and hard and the skin throbbed. The only thing he'd felt like it was when he'd fallen into a pit of fire ants in college. Realizing basically all of his muscles were tensed, he tried to make them relax and let himself breathe normally. He swallowed. He was still shaking. He wasn't sure he could take Jack pulling the spines right this second. "W-wait a sec, Jack." He took a couple of breaths. "Uh, see-see if you can find something acidic. Vinegar, uh..." He tried to focus. Things with a low pH. All else he could think of was acid batteries and ketchup. "If you can't find something just see if you can heat some water up." An acid would dissolve some of the calcium in the spines and make them less brittle, and if he was right and there was venom (which, given the reaction his skin was having to the spines, was getting likelier by the second), hot water might help degrade some of it so he wasn't taking the full brunt. He didn't want to freak Jack out though. The likelihood that a venom would be anything worth calling out a helicopter rescue for was almost nil. But he knew Jack had been trained for venom=death, and given that he tended to usually underrepresent his medical status, he wasn't feeling up to convincing Jack of that fact. If Jack didn't notice, he wouldn't say anything. "They'll make the spines a little softer so you have a better chance of pulling them out in one piece."

Mac wiggled and breathed through the removal of most of the fabric, but Jack wasn't surprised when he asked for a break. It looked like he'd been bitten by an entire swarm of mosquitoes. Looked seriously uncomfortable. "Acidic, ok. Um. Hold on." Jack opened all six cabinet doors and came up with an ancient plastic plate, a couple of coffee mugs, two bowls, some random pots and pans, a drawer of silverware and cooking utensils, and- jackpot!- a massive jar of pickles. The cucumbers hadn't totally disintegrated, so he was able to pull them out with a fork and chuck them in the garbage bin under the sink. Jack poured the pickle juice into a pot and set it on the wood stove to heat. "How 'bout hot pickle juice? That's gotta be gross enough to fix ya some!" A search of the bathroom cabinet revealed a variety of washcloths and hand towels, so he grabbed enough to cover mac's side and shoulder.

Mac tried to will himself not to puke at the smell of the warming pickle juice, but it would do the trick. He closed his eyes and lowered his head down to the table. He was still shaking a little even though the pain wasn't as horrible. The warmth from the pickle juice soaked towels, while seriously gross, would be welcome. "Pickle soup. Sounds tasty." He said sarcastically. "Thanks." 

Mac looked terrible. The fact that he wasn't complaining spoke volumes. Jack waited in silence while the pickle brine warmed, and when he could barely stand to put his finger in it, he set it on the table and plopped five washcloths in. One at a time, he drew them out and squeezed some of the brine out of them, then lay them against Mac's side. They were still steaming when they touched Mac's skin, but Jack figured they should be hot. "That ok?"

Mac almost groaned. He'd been right, the smell left a lot to be desired, but the warmth was more of a relief than he'd anticipated. He let Jack position the washcloths on him. They cooled relatively quickly in the already cool cabin. "Shouldn't take too long, maybe 15 minutes if we refresh them a few times." He'd probably need to literally soak in hot water to do anything about degrading any venom, and that sounded like way more work than was feasible, seeing as the water would have to be heated in a pot on the stove. But the vinegar in the pickles would make it easier to extract the spines. 

Jack replaced the washcloths as they cooled, worry creeping steadily higher as Mac sat passively, allowing him to direct the operation. Normally, Mac was practically bursting with ideas and opinions, constantly in motion, never idle, but now he sat still under Jack's hands. Jack couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw an occasion shiver run through Mac's body. "You cold, buddy? Lemme getcha a blanket."

Something clicked in Mac's brain and he sat upright again. A blanket. Wow, yeah, why hadn't he thought of that? But if he was going to do that, he might as well change into dry pants first, at least. Gingerly, again, he pushed himself up from the chair. His skin around the spines felt tight and hot while the rest of him was exhausted and chilled. "I'm gonna get some pants first." Mac said, moving over to the bed, slightly hunched to avoid moving the spines and shed the bottom half of the wetsuit while holding onto the bedpost. Fortunately, he'd pulled most of his clothes out and laid them in a heap on his bed to repack before going out for the dive, so all he had to do was grab a pair of shorts and pull them on one-handed. He finished, more exhausted than he thought he would be. "Hey Jack, this is gonna sound kinda like something you'd freak about, so don't, but what if I laid down and you tried to get the spines out over here?”

Jack scrambled to catch a falling washcloth when Mac sat up, and then followed him as he shuffled over to the bed. What the hell was going on with him? He looked sick or drugged or something. But Jack didn't ask, figuring Mac wouldn't give him a straight answer anyway. "Lay down? Yeah, here." He swept up Mac's pile of clothes and dumped them on the top bunk, then pulled back the old quilt that covered the bed.

"You don't have to... Thanks..." Mac said awkwardly. But even he had to admit, it would have been hard to do any of that himself. He sat at the edge of the bunk, trying to decide the best way for him to lay. "Do we have the Phoenix med kit?" 

Mac just... complied. Compliant was one of the last words he'd use to describe his friend, and it just made him worry more. "Yep." Jack retrieved the small kit from the pile of gear by the door and set it next to Mac on the bed. "Will you lay down before you fall over? What happened out there? You look really bad, Mac, worse than just some thorns or whatever in you."

"Again, something I really don't want you to freak out about, Jack, um..." Mac said, cringing inwardly. "But I think there might have been something in the spines, that, um, isn't playing nice with my body." He avoided the actual word 'venom'. That would be jarring and lead to a lot more freaking out than Mac wanted to deal with. He'd be good if most of the spines came out, probably.

Don't freak out. Cue the freaking out! Did Mac seriously think he was going to make Jack freak out less by saying this stuff? "Isn't playing nice. So venom." Jack took a deep breath. Maybe Mac was worse off than he was letting on. "We gotta get those spines outta you. Lay down and cover up, ok?"

"Not, like, the deadly kind." Mac said. He lowered himself to the bed and hugged the towel roll he was using as a pillow to keep still for Jack. "But it's probably best we get them out as soon as possible." He shifted into a marginally comfortable position. "You can pull them out with tweezers, just, try to get as close as you can to my skin and pull straight out. The pickle juice probably made them a little more flexible, but if they break off we probably won't be able to get them out with what we've got here." 

"Ok, ok, that's good. Not deadly is good," Jack said quietly to himself as he pulled out the tweezers. He started on Mac's shoulder blade. Slowly and carefully, he grasped the shiny black base of a spine that stuck up half a centimeter and pulled. The spine slid out of Mac's skin fairly easily, leaving behind a little hole in the center of the swollen skin. Jack cast around for a place to put the spine, and stepped over to grab a coffee cup from the cabinet.

Mac squeezed the towel roll as Jack pulled the first spine out of his back. This was gonna suck, he thought. The skin around the spines was so sensitive now even the small movement of pulling the spine felt like a sort of weird electric cold that immediately sunk back into burning. He just had to hang on until they were all out. "What do we have for meds in the kit?" Mac asked. 

Jach set down the tweezers and coffee mug on the table by the bed and rummaged through the medical bag. "Tylenol, Motrin, and Bayer's. Pick your poison.”

"Tylenol and the motrin." Mac said, remembering vaguely that they can be taken together. "What are the doses?"

"Two. You sure you should take both of 'em?" Jack questioned even as he filled a mug with water from Mac's bottle.

"Yeah." Mac said. Usually he wouldn't, but the reaction was only getting more painful and if he could have something in his system to alleviate it, at least in the short term while he weathered Jack pulling things out of his back, he would take it. And he was pretty sure he'd seen a chart that said you could take tylenol with motrin or aspirin but not both, or... was it the other way around? "You know, maybe just the tylenol then?" He hated questioning himself, and the idea that he might be cheating himself out of some relief wasn't great, but he had no idea how bad it would be if he took the wrong two together.

"That definitely sounds safer," said Jack. He handed Mac the pills and then the water, and set back up for more spine pulling. "Sit still and it'll be over soon, ok?" He started back next to the first one he'd pulled. Fortunately, many of the spines had come completely out with the wetsuit, but lots still remained, and some of those were broken off, just blurry black dots beneath Mac's skin. As he pulled each spine out, Jack dropped it into the coffee cup. By the time he was done with Mac's arm, the bottom of the cup had a solid layer of black spikes covering the bottom.

Mac gripped the towel for dear life as he tried to be as still as he could for Jack. It soon became impossible to control his breathing, which was coming irregularly and sharp with the spikes of pain. He curled in on himself, bringing his legs up instinctively as though protecting his abdomen from a threat. He had his eyes closed hard, feeling the unpleasant trickles of what could have been blood or sweat dripping down his skin from the areas around the spines. Probably blood, he reasoned. He still felt weirdly cold, and could tell he was starting to shiver again despite the blanket. "Mmgh." He gasped as he felt Jack move from his arm to his back, unable to completely stifle a cry at the fresh wave of pain that reared up. Embarrassed, he quickly bit down on the towel. He could take this. He just needed to give Jack a few more minutes. A few more minutes…

Mac was shaking, and it nearly killed Jack to keep going. At this point, however, it was better to just get through it, especially since he was pretty sure there had been something on those spines, and the only solution for that was to get them out. Bit by bit, Mac's back began to look less like... well, like a sea urchin, and more like human skin. He couldn't tell if Mac was actually crying or not, but if he wasn't, he certainly seemed close. Jack lay a reassuring hand on a clear patch of skin on Mac's side and was surprised by the heat he felt there. Nothing unbelievable, but also not normal for a guy who'd just been in the ocean and was now shirtless and shivering. "You ok, Mac?" Jack asked quietly.

Mac nodded. He felt Jack's hand against his side. Comforting, sure, but weirdly cold. "Never... better." He forced out. "Keep goin'" he instructed. Just a few more minutes, he reminded himself again. Then, he'd be able to actually cover up with the blanket and warm up. Weird how the fire didn't seem to be helping much in that regard. The cabin must be draftier than he thought. He kept himself wrapped around the towel until Jack stopped pulling spines out of him. "You.. done?" He panted.

"All done," Jack said. He was relieved too, but getting steadily more and more worried about Mac. He pulled the sheet and quilt up over his shoulders, and then pulled both sheets and the lumpy comforter off of the top bunk and piled those on Mac too. The only medical training he had was TCCC, and that hadn't included sea urchin-induced fevers in skinny kids in the middle of nowhere in a storm. "Will you have some hot chocolate if I bring you some?"

Mac nodded, savoring for the moment the calm warmth of being under so many blankets. He would have to give them up, he knew, when Jack wanted to sleep, but for the moment it felt wonderful in contrast to the last hour or so. He drifted, listening to the crackle of the fire, Jack moving around the room, and something else, like wind and something whipping against the outside of the cabin"S'it raining out?" He asked finally. 

Jack left Mac for a few minutes to put more wood on the fire, make sure all the windows were shut, and put water on to boil for hot chocolate and pasta. He scrubbed out a few of the mugs and some spoons, wiping down the dusty, buggy kitchen as he unpacked their mess kits onto the counter. He turned around when Mac mumbled something from the bed. "What was that?" he asked as he walked over.

"Is it raining? Sounds like it’s storming out there." Mac said.

Jack snagged aside a curtain and looked out the window. "Yep, it's comin' down." He measured out spoonfuls of hot cocoa mix into two mugs and then carefully poured near-boiling water over it. He pulled a chair up next to the bunk bed and nudged Mac's arm with one of the mugs. "Here."

Mac groggily reached a hand out to the mug Jack was handing him. It was gloriously warm against his hand. A hand, it turned out, that was oddly weak. He couldn't make his hand close hard enough around the mug, and felt it slip out of his hand before he could adjust his grip. The mug dropped the two-ish feet to the wooden floor, spilling cocoa everywhere. "Whoa, shit." Mac said, clumsily reaching a hand out from the covers in order to pull the mug upright, but the sudden movement pulled at the inflamed skin, making him intake breath shortly. 

Jack jumped out of the way of the spill. "Mac? What happened?" he asked as he went to grab more towels from the bathroom. "Don't you like my hot chocolate?" As he cleaned up the spill, he watched Mac. His motions were slow and inexact, very un-Mac-like, Jack thought. "Mac, what's wrong with you?"

"Dunno." Mac said. Well, he had a theory. Weakness was a symptom of a lot of venoms. He wrestled with sharing that insight with Jack, and finally came to the conclusion that hiding anything was probably counterproductive. "Could be the venom."   
“Ok. Ok, so we can fix that, right?" Jack plopped back down next to Mac. Those spikes had clearly had something on them, and Mac was getting worse as they spoke. Venom needed antivenom, and that meant a hospital. Jack's head spun with half-formed evacuation plans.

"I still don't think there's enough venom in me to cause serious problems. The weakness means it’s probably a neurotoxin. It’s been what?" Mac asked. "90 minutes? If it was going to kill me I'd already be experiencing some level of paralysis. I'm not. I'm just going to have to ride this out." He finally had started to feel a little better from the tylenol. Maybe with some sleep he'd be able to get through it without them having to call in the cavalry in a storm.

Oh, good, just a little bit of neurotoxin. Jack would never get used to the stuff that came out of Mac's mouth. Oh, sure, I can make a bomb out of that. Did you know that magnets can control pacemakers? Wow, look at that woman's giant hard drive. Sure, you'll get your phone back. It was dizzying, what he was willing to believe for Mac's sake. "Ok. Glad you let me know it might kill you when I actually could have done something about it!" Jack stomped over to the stove and poured more hot water into his cup, then stirred the chocolate so hard it splashed on the counter.

"Okay, yeah, that was poorly phrased." Mac paused, trying to think of something less worrying. "Jack, it was never going to kill me." Mac explained. "There's no deadly venomous sea urchins. The only reason I'm getting a reaction at all is the fact that I got way more than the usual dose. And even that, well, it might not be the most pleasant night, but I'll get through it." 

"Oh." Jack felt a little silly for his reaction. "So you just gotta sleep it off? You look miserable though..."

"I'll deal." Mac said. "But damn, Jack, I'm exhausted." He had finally stopped feeling like he was freezing, and the feeling had been replaced by a weak floaty feeling that wasn't objectively terrible. "I'll try to sleep for the night. If anything seems off or you get worried you can wake me up." 

Jack heated up a can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew for his dinner and ate it in front of the stove, listening to the rain pour down on the roof. Fortunately they had a roof- most of the cabins here didn't. After dinner he made coffee, and drank that standing in the open doorway, watching the rain pour down on the ocean in the distance. When his knee started hurting, he shut the door and threw his sleeping bag onto the top bunk.

Mac was absolutely sweltering. He'd woken suddenly to the extreme need to get the blankets off. Sweat was pouring off him; it had already soaked the first layer of his towel pillow and the sheets below him were uncomfortably wet. How was it so hot? He threw the covers off him, and lay panting as the sweat evaporated to a small amount of relief.

Jack came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth to find Mac uncovered and drenched in sweat. He jogged the few steps to the bed and knelt beside it. "Jeez, Mac, you're all wet! Do you have a fever?"

"I think i did." He said between pants, weakly indicating the sweat pool. He'd unconsciously flipped onto his back when he'd thrown the covers off, and his back, while not as bad as it had been, prickled and burned like it was a hand he'd accidentally slept on. Definitely a neurotoxin. That probably explained the fever too. "Side effect of the venom. Dunno if it actually just broke or if the tylenol is masking it."

Jack felt both terrible for having given Mac something that made him feel like this and glad that he'd gotten meds in him, because how bad would it have been without? "Well, you have to change your clothes, so you do that while I change your sheets. You can get in your sleeping bag."

Mac looked up at him uncomfortably. He didn't want to get up. With great effort, he pushed himself into a sitting position, trying to power through the dizziness that accompanied sitting up.

Jack clasped a hand around Mac's damp bicep as he swayed. When he seemed steady, Jack stood up and stripped the sheets off his own bed. "Why don't you sit in that chair while I do these sheets, and then I'll hand you your clothes? You look like you're about to fall over."

Mac shakily sat down as Jack told him. He reached over to the pile of clothes next to him and began to change slowly. "Jack, you really don't have to, I'm..." He didn't know what he was going to say next. It would have been way more work for him to change the sheets than for Jack to do so. Heck, it was pretty much the extent of his capabilities to dress himself. Even though he was exhausted, a little dizzy, and his back still hurt, he felt pretty normal again. Maybe it was short term, or his body had been able to fight it. Anyway, the rest of the night's sleep would be welcome. "What time is it?" Mac asked, noting it was still storming outside. 

Jack had finished changing the whole bed by the time Mac had pants on. "Sure I have to, Mac, look at you." Mac wasn't nearly as sweaty as he had been before, so that was reassuring. Now he mostly just looked worn out. He was pale, and had dark patches under his eyes, emphasizing his already skinny looks. "'Bout ten. You only slept for an hour or so." Jack held the sheets back and stood in front of Mac so if he tipped over, he could catch him. "Ready for bed again?"

Mac knew Jack was covering him in case he collapsed, but he didn't fight it. "Yeah." He agreed, climbing back into the bed and covering himself in the fresh linens. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the towel roll. -----He woke with the single overwhelming desire to drink water. It was dark. He couldn't figure out why that was weird but it was. He'd slept, or at least it felt like he had, but the room was pitch dark and- agh !Water. He stifled the cry, his back suddenly flared with pain as the sheet rubbed against it. He swallowed against saliva, sour and stringy in his mouth, as he tried to clear the swirls that invaded his vision even though there was nothing else to see. His heart was pounding hard and fast in his ears. Constant and unnerving. He breathed heavily. Water . Gingerly, he lifted the sheet off him, careful not to disturb his skin. He stood, the bare parts of his body chilly in the darkness. He needed water. He squinted- there was the form of a bottle on the table and he stumbled over to it, nearly knocking a chair over in his haste. 

Jack climbed into the top bunk and into his sleeping bag. It took him awhile to get to sleep, but eventually the pounding rain and the sound of Mac's steady breathing lulled him to sleep. ---------------------Bang! Jack was sitting up with his gun in his hand before he registered the sound. "Mac?" he said quietly, checking for his backup. Seconds later, he remembered where he was and put the gun down as he slid off his bunk. Flipping on the flashlight on his phone, he looked around the cabin and found Mac by the table. His skin was flushed, and the look in his eyes was slightly creepy, though Jack couldn't put a finger on why. "You good?"

Mac whipped around so hard his head spun and he had to regain his balance for a second. A gun glinted in the tiny bit of moonlight coming through the window just before he was blinded by a light pointed directly in his face. He brought his hand holding the water bottle up out of instinct. He couldn't see past the light, just that he knew there was a gun, and someone was threatening him with it. They said something he didn't hear or didn't understand. "Stay back!" He warned, though the gunman would have to come a lot closer for Mac to stand any chance of incapacitating him with the water bottle. That was a bad plan anyway, but he had to do something. Instead, he threw the bottle at the light, then lunged for the door. Outside, rain whipped across him and he went down hard on the slippery plank porch. His back exploded with pain and he choked on a scream, but it was nothing next to the idea of getting shot at point-blank range in the wilderness. He forced himself up, still half-blind from the light, his bare feet slipping on pine needles, and tripping on underbrush. His breath came harsh and his mouth felt like paste. He fell a last time, panting, groaning, and failed to push himself back to standing. And then the strongest wave of guilt washed over him. He'd left Jack in the cabin. Jack who had, likely, already been shot in his sleep as Mac looked for water. He let out a sob, rainwater running down his back, simultaneously cooling and stinging it. He couldn't make himself get up.

Blank, that was it. Mac's eyes were weirdly blank, empty of recognition. Jack reached out for him but before he could reach him, Mac shouted at him and brandished the half-full plastic bottle. Clearly he didn't know who Jack was, but why? He'd been perfectly fine two hours ago when they'd gone to bed and now he thought Jack was trying to hurt him! What the hell had been in those spines? Jack racked his brain but couldn't come up with anything natural that he knew of that would make someone paranoid like that. He held up both hands placatingly. "Just slow down now, Ma-" Mac threw the water bottle, missing Jack by several feet, and stumbled out the door into the rain. Jack followed him out, keeping his distance. After a couple of falls, Mac either wore out or gave up and sank down into the mud beside the wood pile. Was he crying? "Mac?" Jack said softly from several yards away. "Mac, it's me, it's Jack. You're gettin' all wet out here in the rain. Why don't you come in and dry off, ok?"  
Mac felt the gunman follow him out into the rain and then stop when he was several yards away, easily within shooting distance. He was saying something, but Mac didn't care. "Did you kill him?" Mac asked. 

“Did- what?" Jack was totally confused. Did Mac think there'd been somebody else in the cabin with them? "Yeah, Mac, I got him. Good and dead. Will you come back to the cabin now that he's gone?"

Jack was... dead. And this man had killed him. And that was more than Mac could lie here on the flooded pine needles and take. He forced himself, with the last of his energy, to a standing position, and lunged towards the gunman. "Who the hell are you!?" He knew he was exhausted, he knew he was shaking, he knew that this man would kill him the second he could get his bearings. But Mac couldn't let him get away with it unscathed. He used his forward momentum to ram the man below his center of gravity, scrambled on top and began punching. They were weak blows, he knew, but they were all he could think to offer. "Who the hell are you sonofabitch I will kill-" they were just words now but Mac just had to scream.

Jack was knocked backwards onto his butt, splashing down into the wet grass. Mac swung half-formed fists at him. Jack dodged easily, and eventually got hold of Mac’s wrists, one in each hand. He pulled the other man down towards him. “Buddy, I’m ok. I’m right here. It’s me. Nobody hurt me. I’m right here.” He let words spill out of his mouth as he held Mac’s trembling body. They were both soaked, and the wind had picked up significantly. Jack shivered.

Mac blinked, feeling himself struggling even though objectively he had lost the drive to do so anymore. The man... was Jack. His brain slowly caught hold of the idea, but he wasn't sure he could wholly trust it. He couldn't even make himself say anything, just felt himself staring blankly at Jack, waiting to fall over or figure out what happened. Nothing came to him. He became aware of his heart beat again in his head. "Jack? Think... somethin’s wrong."

“Mac? You with me?” The kid had stopped struggling. He gazed fixedly at a spot just to the left of Jack’s head, and Jack moved into his line of sight. “Mac?” The answer was slurred but intelligible. “Yeah, I think you got a little mixed up for a minute there.” Mac was deathly pale except for bright spots of red on his cheeks, and he looked like he might just tip over into the grass if Jack let go of him. “Can you walk back to the cabin if I help you?”

"Think so." Mac repeated. He wanted to nod but everything hurt and he felt spacey and exhausted. His heart was beating too fast in his head. Slowly, he turned back toward the cabin and forced himself forward.

“Oh. Ok, well just hold on! Lemme help you!” Jack jogged a few steps to catch up with his friend. He took Mac’s arm- the one that hadn’t been full of spines- and slid it around his own shoulders. “Let’s just go slow.”

Mac took Jack up on the offer of support as they made their way slowly  
back to the cabin. He needed water, needed sleep. He wasn't sure how  
long it would take for the venom to clear his system, but he hoped his  
body would break it down soon. Even now, he felt a creeping  
embarrassment come over him. Five minutes ago he had been laying on  
wet pine needles and crying about a situation he had made up in his  
head. Before that, Jack had stripped his bed when he'd sweated through  
the sleeping bad and blankets. He'd laid half naked and shivering as  
Jack had pulled spines out of his skin. He had no idea where his mind  
was now and just wanted to avoid anything else happening tonight.

Back in the cabin, Jack told Mac to sit in the chair by the head of the bed he'd been sleeping in. "And stay there," he added firmly. He made more hot chocolate, got out more clean clothes for Mac, and stripped the sheets off the bottom bunk and replaced them with a sleeping bag, all the while keeping an eye on his friend. He handed Mac a full Nalgene to drink while the hot chocolate cooled, and glared at him until he took a drink. "You want more Tylenol? It's 1am, so it's been 6 hours."

Mac took the nalgene and let it sit in his lap until Jack told him to drink. Things still felt like they were just off enough that something was probably wrong, but Jack's actions seemed sincere and when he urged Mac to drink, Mac did. The first few sips he had to force down, but after that he gulped half the bottle down before setting it back in his lap, breathing a little heavily. Jack mentioned something about tylenol and he nodded. His side and back were throbbing again. Not as bad as before and it was definitely at the level he could handle, but he didn't want the fever to come back. "If there is any, yeah." 

He finished the nalgene and shakily got into the bed. Even in the ten or so minutes since beginning the water, he felt immeasurably better, and the pounding in his head and chest had died down a little. If he could sleep the rest of the night, he'd be better, but for the most part, things seemed to be going up. 

Jack gave Mac two more Tylenol. He brewed himself a pot of strong coffee and settled himself in the chair next to Mac's bed. Carefully, he unloaded his gun and put the bullets in his pocket, then set the weapon on the top bunk, just in case Mac woke up confused again. Jack would be there if that happened though. No way was he letting Mac be alone again as scared and confused as he'd been before. The former soldier set his forehead in his hands and looked over at his sleeping partner. He was just glad he'd be ok.

\------------------

In the morning, Jack made his famous powdered egg/powdered milk/ powdered mashed potato fry up along with more coffee, which he dumped hot chocolate into. He put everything he could into his own pack, strapped Mac's pack to it, and left the rest. They'd be back here in a few weeks when Mac was healed, and Jack definitely didn't want him carrying a pack with his arm and side all torn up like they were. When he opened the door, morning sunlight streamed in. It was cold and wet, but no longer stormy.


End file.
